


A Midwinter Night's Dream

by Angela



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, fiction-in-poems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:58:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1383286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angela/pseuds/Angela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry, Luna, Ginny, & Neville mixed up every which-way. Originally two couples with out-of-bounds feelings, these four discover one Christmas holiday that love isn't limited to pairs. (Originally posted on livejournal in 2005)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Midwinter Night's Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I really should've broken this into chapters, but I have no idea how to even begin. Sorry. Seriously, by the end you'll be cursing me. It's so damn long.
> 
> This story is told entirely in poems; it was an experiment in alternative storytelling. Also, it perfectly illustrates my inability to choose an OTP in the Harry Potter world.
> 
> It works better with four different fonts, font colors, or both. Since that's not possible, please note that the narrator for each poem is in its heading.

A Midwinter Night’s Dream  
by Angela

 

December 20th; Harry  
A Lull

Dumbledore says to take a break,  
to try to forget  
(as though forgetting Voldemort  
is ever really an option)  
and enjoy the lull  
of Christmastime  
(my last at Hogwarts)  
when he promises the world will be  
Safe.  
(I wonder why he’s so sure)

The calm before the storm  
A stolen, last moment  
to express  
repressed emotions  
regurgitate  
feelings swallowed--  
Saved for a better time:

today.

***

December 21st; Harry  
Ron is Spending the Holiday at Hermione’s

“Sorry, mate,”  
he apologizes.  
No place for me  
This time he has to be  
 _Ron Weasley, future such-and-such,_  
not  
Part of a hastily mumbled  
 _Harry and Ron_

I laugh  
(but wonder when  
things got so  
serious  
that three became a crowd)

Hermione trembles  
when she hugs goodbye  
Until she is snuggled beneath  
Ron’s heavy arm  
And it’s snowing  
white and bleak

Not at all like  
Christmas  
But somehow expected:  
like when I open gifts from  
home.

***

December 21st; Ginny  
Hermione and Ron Escape

I watch from the window  
wondering at the fact  
that I’ve never taken  
Neville  
home to introduce as  
The Boy  
But everyone knows  
anyway  
that I’m not the type to stray  
once I’ve made  
my mind up  
His fingers  
wrapped around mine at King’s Cross  
were enough to earn  
a Christmas gift  
and a summer invite  
and the take-care-of-my-little-girl-speech  
\--well, not so far  
thank god--  
I lay back on my bed  
imagining Neville laughing  
among my brothers  
My overprotective bullying  
 _vigilant_ brothers  
When would we ever be alone?  
And suddenly it’s no wonder that  
Hermione  
insisted on going to her place  
instead

***

December 21st; Harry  
Out in the Cold

I’m still staring  
after the carriage  
And the stupid thestrals that  
they (still) can’t see,

when Luna  
slips  
her palm against mine,  
Her gloved hands  
(a different color on every finger)  
still warm with the inside.  
She stands on tiptoe

to whisper something  
about snowflake pixies  
and statistics on influenza cases  
(her way to coax me inside)

“You’re beautiful,” I tell her,  
maybe for the first time ever  
and she blinks  
as though she barely realizes what that means.  
Then smiles

“So are you.”

***

December 22nd; Neville  
torn

when he slides onto the bench  
across from me  
muttering a cranky good morning,  
my chest aches  
as lungs lose  
breath

his glasses are crooked  
and his hair  
wild.  
his smile is forced.

in the same instant, ginny  
puts her small hand on my thigh  
her fingers pressing  
and curling  
into the heavy corduroy  
and for a moment

i wonder which one causes  
my rapid pulse.

i wonder which one sees  
my shaking hands.

ginny blinks  
her sleepy copper lashes  
and i remember why  
i fell in love

but harry grins  
as hedwig dips low,  
heavy with parcels

and i forget everything.

***

December 22nd; Luna  
Watching Ginny Notice Neville Gaze at Harry

My stomach lurches,  
My eyes water,  
Because of  
The way her skin goes pale  
Beneath her freckles as she clutches  
His knee and sees  
His gaze stray

His pale eyes,  
Sightless to her pain,  
Sense only him.

And how does she stand  
Such senseless stray betrayals?  
She deserves faithful devotion. . .  
And I would be devoted to deserving  
Her faithful affection

If she would notice.

Then Harry wraps  
His arms--protective or possessive?--  
Around my shoulders.  
I study his fingers, clasped  
Beneath my breasts  
And I wonder

How does he stand  
Such senseless stray betrayals?

***

December 22nd; Harry  
That Afternoon

“Teach me to fly,”  
he asks once it stops snowing  
“Of course, I can fly,” he amends,  
“but not how you do.”  
He’s potting plants on the  
windowsill, wiping his hands  
(dirt in long streaks)  
on his smock

I suppose I can try  
“It’ll be cold”  
I warn, thinking of how ice  
inches over the broomstick  
and how the wind  
makes you feel like your ears bleed

But he layers his jumpers  
beneath his robe  
and gathers up an assortment of gloves,  
hats, scarves

I toss him my goggles  
and his eyes light up.  
He crams a hat over golden hair  
and grins.

“At least I’ll be padded when I fall.”

***

December 22nd; Neville  
flying lessons

he wasn’t lying  
it’s cold and miserable

and exhilarating  
even with starts and stops  
and stupid mistakes  
he’s patient  
and soon  
\---well, not too soon---  
i’m dipping low and twisting  
between  
ice-sheeted clouds

feeling like a quidditch pro  
free  
like i’ve never been before  
and harry’s laughing  
like he hasn’t  
in years

***

December 22nd; Ginny  
Petulant

Neville isn’t at tea  
just like he hadn’t been in the library  
or in the common room.  
or at the greenhouses  
I ask Luna  
and she says he’s out  
chasing snitches with Harry  
Her eyes flash  
over her Quibbler  
and she asks if I want  
to join them  
I say no  
and try not to feel  
petulant  
just because Neville promised  
to spend this holiday  
with me  
 _Then let’s have tea with  
Professor Trelawney_  
Luna suggests  
grasping my hand  
Over the table  
 _That way, Neville and Harry  
won’t be able to find us_  
I think she’s nutters  
to willingly go to the Divinations room  
but of course  
she’s Luna  
so I know she’s usually right  
and always fun

***

December 23rd; Harry  
Gathering Holly

The four of us trudge  
Through knee-deep snow  
At the edge of the forest  
To find holly  
To decorate  
Hagrid’s hut  
(This annual tradition  
was _Hermione’s_ idea,  
so it doesn’t seem  
fair that she’s not here  
up to her thighs  
in cold, wet snow)

Two days ‘til Christmas  
and I’m still waiting  
for last-minute owl-order gifts:  
Goggles for Neville (ordered yesterday)  
A broomstick-care kit for Ginny  
And for Luna:  
nothing  
(I can’t think of anything  
quite good enough)

she looks distracted,  
her forehead crinkled  
in deep thought,  
so I wrap my arms around her  
and nuzzle.

***

December 23rd; Luna  
Four Scattered Lovers

Each secretly aching  
For the devotion of someone  
Not wholeheartedly  
Dedicated  
It seems to me

We're like Shakespeare  
In the snow:  
A Midwinter Night's Dream

As we wander through  
This enchanted forest  
I wonder if it might not be  
Easy to transfigure  
Myself into  
A playful, powerful,  
Faerie

Who can  
Manipulate love.

***

December 24th; Neville  
luna

she reads the quibbler,  
her wand idly stirring her soup  
as harry and ginny bicker  
over the wrong and right way  
to supervise a quidditch practice

and i sort of long  
for something to read  
or say, or do,  
so i won’t be such an  
outsider  
among my own friends.  
until i notice a bubbling  
from luna’s bowl

and her alphabet soup  
rearranges:  
“hullo neville”  
luna doesn’t look up  
but she smiles.  
“looking cute today” the soup  
spells out  
“for ginny or,”

my heartbeat steps up  
“for harry?”

i look at her face, appalled  
and embarrassed, ashamed.  
but her eyes are cool and smiling  
“it’s okay,” she mouths  
but my hands won’t stop  
shaking.

***

December 25th; Harry  
On Christmas Morning

I open Ron’s and Hermione’s  
fun and thoughtful (respectively)  
gifts and find myself  
somehow sadder  
than before--  
though I thought I’d cry  
while trimming the Gryffindor tree  
with Neville and Ginny and  
a few first-years I didn’t know.

Hagrid isn’t home  
so I sit  
on the steps of his hut,  
snow covering me  
until Luna finds me.  
She slides close beside me,

pushes a soft-wrapped present  
into my gloved hand  
“It’s a hat,” she explains, not  
meaning to spoil the surprise  
“I knitted it without magic.”

And she kisses me  
slow and deliberate and sexy  
and absolutely unlike the five or so  
(as though I don’t remember  
each and every one!)  
we shared in the past year.

“What do you want for Christmas?”  
I ask her, since I have nothing.  
I wonder if she can tell how wound  
up my body is  
after a kiss like that

She whispers her answer and I realize  
that girls know exactly what they’re doing  
when they do that  
to a guy.

***

December 25th; Luna  
I can’t believe I said _That_

My crazed mind  
Jumbled with hormones and fantasies  
Tumbled the snow, the quiet,  
And Harry’s sad eyes  
With an intense  
Longing for  
Someone to touch

So I  
Jumped  
From fantasy to fact  
In the space of a whisper  
And though I can’t say I don’t want  
The gift I suggested

I didn’t mean

To complicate  
A complex situation  
With my petty desires  
Even though Harry  
Is the most beautiful boy I’ve  
Ever seen, it’s no reason

To bungle the picture  
With premature, premeditated,  
Prepossessing sex and yet

I’m not about  
To take it back.

***

December 25th; Ginny  
Asking Neville

I ask him at his weak point  
when his eyes are heavy-lidded  
guileless  
and his heart brims  
with love--  
Love for me.  
We snuggle beneath the heavy  
quilts protected by thick  
draperies and his constant  
jungle of homegrown creepers  
 _Are you in love with Harry?_  
His gentle eyes go  
wide with shock  
and the flush of exposure  
creeps down his neck and over  
his round shoulders.  
 _I’ve seen you  
watching him_ I say  
so he won’t have to ask how  
He kisses my hair  
My cheek  
My throat  
 _I love you Ginny Weasley_  
he swears  
His voice shakes  
 _But yeah--I love Harry too_  
In the quiet that follows  
we are both aware of skin  
still pressing against skin  
warm  
And his quaking honesty  
almost makes me cry

***

December 25th; Neville  
what ginny says

she is vulnerable--naked  
physically and emotionally  
and i can’t say what must  
be said; i can’t  
retract  
the truth.

i don’t know how  
to coax her  
to understand that i can  
love both.  
with love to spare

that i want to be with her,  
and touch her,  
and hold her  
every day and night for always

“you have to tell him.”  
her voice is startlingly  
strong.

and i’m scared that she means  
to end this,  
but she kisses  
and her hands slide  
down my bare skin

“eventually,” she amends  
pulling me on top of her.

***

December 26th; Luna  
Neville pulls me into the library to talk about Harry

And Ginny  
And the complication of me.  
I remind him that Harry  
May be even more  
Complicated

He slumps into  
A window seat, the sunlight  
Falling on his hair in shiny highlights  
And I can’t resist  
But to take his hands  
And smile.

“Tell Harry the truth.”

In spite of knowing what he and Harry  
Might do,  
What he and Ginny  
Have done,  
And what I dream of doing . . .  
With whom?  
A shivery little feeling,  
Like pixie steps on my spine  
And I feel a tangible  
Awareness of his clumsy hands  
And sweet mouth

Suddenly the solution is simple

I lean across Neville’s  
Terrified and eager face  
And move my lips near his ear  
“I love you too, you know,”  
Though I’m sure he doesn’t . . .  
Yet.

***

December 26th; Harry  
After Lunch

Luna spills  
her sordid little secret  
And goes back to her book  
(a _romance_ novel?!)  
as though she had only mentioned  
the likelihood of frost  
I pull the book away  
“What am I supposed to do about it?”

Her eyes are serene  
and she smiles her dreamy smile  
“Answer him honestly.”  
Shaming me with her  
faith

“Aren’t you afraid for us?”

She could’ve taken the time  
to make it look like she were  
Considering:  
“No.”  
(immediately)

I don’t know  
whether or not that is  
a good thing.

***

December 26th; Ginny  
Knowing

I know how Neville  
feels  
about Harry  
But that never keeps  
Us from  
kissing each other  
And when Neville  
kisses  
I wonder if  
he doesn’t forget  
Harry  
Just in the space  
of two mouths meeting  
a fleeting moment of  
Only me

***

December 26th; Harry  
Awake

Instead of sleeping  
I lay awake listening  
to Neville

His breathing soothes like  
Hedwig’s quiet rumble  
and I try to imagine how  
it would feel if--  
At first it’s hard to consider

(but only because I’m scared)

It’s not like I don’t care--his  
slack face and parted mouth stirs  
a protective possessiveness  
I’ve felt for years, and  
it’s not like I’ve never noticed  
the narrow-minded trap  
of heterosexuality and its release

It’s not like Luna would mind.

But I’m afraid  
Of the blurring lines  
around my relationship with Luna,  
Of the emphatic hardness in my pajamas,  
Of what that could mean about me,  
what it must mean about Neville

But am I confusing  
the situation with sex  
when Neville might just want  
Love?

...assuming there’s even a difference  
between the two.

***

December 28th; Luna  
Harry promises

To meet Neville this afternoon  
To sort out the  
Confusion  
Between them

And I can’t help but notice  
His sweating palms, his fingers  
Combing through his hair,  
His eyes darting everywhere  
But back at mine.

“No matter what happens,” I try to  
Reassure, “I love you, Harry Potter.”  
His eyes flick  
Gratefully  
Over my face, so I smile  
To feed him encouragement

“What if I’m--”  
“I mean, what if, because of Neville--”  
“What if I don’t want--”  
I stifle a giggle, remembering  
His ardent mouth and panting breath.

“Don’t worry. You’re not.”  
I’m certain of his return to me  
Because I feel  
How his body responds when  
We kiss  
And I know  
How mine responds to him  
Despite everything I feel

For Ginny.

***

December 28th; Neville  
last kiss

before we go to  
confess to harry, i want  
to be with ginny,  
to make her understand  
she is my everything

her tiny body slides  
easily into my arms and i  
lean down and whisper  
my promise to love her  
always  
she trembles  
but her mouth meets mine

eagerly  
and for a long, long, time  
we kiss.

***

December 28th; Harry  
In the Courtyard

It’s snowing  
and the cold keeps me  
from noticing that Ron  
and Hermione  
aren’t here

Almost.

But Luna takes my  
hand and suddenly  
it barely matters

until Neville and Ginny  
stand before us  
The snow catches  
on Neville’s scarf and across  
Ginny’s mittens  
(both exactly matching the hat Luna made me)  
And my heart pounds  
with this ridiculous  
(but somehow not at all ridiculous)  
confrontation.

He has no idea  
I already know--  
his hands are fidgety  
even when holding Ginny’s  
and I don’t know how to tell him  
that love isn’t the kind  
of thing that can be coaxed.

Luna squeezes my fingers,  
tucking a lock of pale blond behind  
one adorable ear  
and smiles.  
“What does your heart say?”  
she whispers, brushing her lips  
across my cold cheek.

I watch her step away,  
wondering if she knows how often  
my heart repeats her name  
But when I look at Neville,  
suddenly bereft of Ginny’s quiet support

it skips.

***

December 28th; Neville  
asking

my chest hurts until even  
ginny’s soft hand  
doesn’t dull the frantic thudding

then she is gone

and harry stands  
here.

his eyes are curious,  
but knowing.

***

December 28th; Neville  
the question

“i think it’s obvious . . .”  
“i mean, i wanted to say---”  
“that is, do you think . . . ?”  
“er, cold out today, isn’t it?”  
“well, ginny thought i should ask you---”  
“or maybe it’s stupid . . .”  
“it’s not like we haven’t been through a lot.”  
“it’s okay if you don’t . . .”  
“I mean, it’s kind of crazy if you think about it, but . . .”  
“god, this is rough.”  
“it’s just that i’ve never really felt this way before.”  
“and even though---”  
“ah, never mind!”  
“are you and luna, um, are you . . .?”  
“the fact is, i care. a lot.”  
“not about luna---well, yes, about her, but also--”  
“ginny said it was okay, to go ahead and ask you---”  
“i think---”  
“no, i _know._ i know that i . . .”  
“that i love. you.”

“and so, how about you?”

***

December 28th; Harry  
Answer

“And so, how about you?”

My answer  
(a surprise even to me)  
is a press of  
lips--warm against  
trembling cold

Then lips  
(boys’ lips!)  
become mouths with tongues  
And I long  
to press long and hot  
Against Neville’s skin--  
becoming him  
like the slanting sunlight shining wet  
in his eyes.

“I see,” Neville whispers  
his breath mist  
on my face.

***

December 28th; Ginny  
Sudden Departure

After dinner we play cards  
in the Gryffindor common room until  
quite late all of us  
pretending that the afternoon  
Courtyard Scene  
hadn’t happened at all  
Neville keeps his knee  
pressed hard against mine and his  
hand keeps reaching  
to stroke my hair  
But when Luna wins  
the fourteenth round of Exploding Snap  
he suddenly yawns  
kisses me  
and darts up the dark stairs  
before anyone can protest  
or cry  
or change her mind  
And Harry offers an apologetic  
traitorous _goodnight_ and  
disappears on the heels of  
my lover  
Luna looks at me  
smiles  
and suggests a game of  
Crazy Eights

***

December 28th; Neville  
because it’s you

upstairs  
in the absence of dean and seamus  
and particularly of ron  
harry and i are  
alone.

curtained beds remind me  
of secluded little nests  
of ginny--  
her eyes and mouth and nimble fingers

harry and i are alone

“was it because they  
asked you to?”

he looks at me  
green-eyed gaze narrow,  
keeping secrets  
making me uneasy  
until he almost--  
almost smiles:  
“no,” he whispers  
“because it’s you.”

his fingers  
touch my cheek,  
my lips.  
his hand is in my hair  
and his smile  
becomes certain.

***

December 28th; Harry  
The Truth

If he hadn’t asked  
I couldn’t answer, then  
I wouldn’t know that  
(finally)  
I am telling  
the truth.

***

December 28th; Luna  
That night

After Harry slips away  
After Neville, Ginny reaches  
Out to wrap her hand  
Around my braided hair

“Stay,” she urges, having  
No idea how urgently  
I want  
To stay her lips with a kiss  
And remind her that her  
Neville isn’t the only one  
Who kisses and stays away

“Have we lost them?”  
She asks me in a voice  
So lonely that it makes me almost  
Sorry I’m alone with her

I shake my head, putting my arms  
Around her small shoulders  
To remind her that we are loved  
By more than just two boys,  
Now busy with loving  
Each other.  
I close my eyes,  
Close enough to smell the sweet  
Cinnamon on her breath as she bites  
Down hard on a crunchy bit of candy.

She leans on me  
Her silky hair draping  
Over my shoulder as dainty fingers  
Grasp  
The back of my jumper  
“I love him,” she whispers

And I tell her  
There is room in the heart  
For more than one  
Lover.

***

December 28th; Harry  
Touching

I take his hand  
lead him  
to the shrouded sanctuary  
of my bed--where no one  
(but me) has lain.  
His heart is so loud I can hear  
its thumping in my ears--  
Or is that mine?

I notice that my lungs  
have forgotten  
the rhythms of breath  
and my hands don’t  
Remember  
the simple unclasping of  
a belt buckle.

Still wondering why  
(what the hell am I doing here?)  
(why isn’t this Luna?)  
I push him onto my bed,  
his legs falling against the  
jumbled sheets and blankets.  
Not kissing--  
Yet  
my hand has found  
its destination  
and Neville

jumps--almost pulls away.  
I hold him down.  
Stroking.  
And his eyelids tremble  
as he mumbles weak  
protests.  
(which I ignore)

My other hand fumbles  
beneath his Weasley jumper  
(a gift to Ginny’s boyfriend, I assume)  
and finds skin--  
soft and smooth and lightly muscled  
“H-Harry,” he whispers.

It almost sounds like pain  
and I wonder how  
it feels  
to have another hand stroke  
down there.

***

December 28th; Neville  
learning the difference

not knowing whether to be shocked  
or grateful,  
a naïve part of me wonders  
if this is what  
i wanted  
when i fell in love with  
harry.  
but it wasn’t as though  
i’d never done it  
before--or rather,  
something like it--  
so i reach

trying to stop my hand from shaking  
as it slips easily  
down his too-loose jeans  
and when i encounter  
flesh--so strange but  
so very familiar  
harry gasps  
and presses his mouth  
hard over mine.

and once he’s kissing me  
it feels again like  
love  
like that tangle of my limbs  
with ginny’s  
so i finally stop whimpering  
and give in  
to the feeling.

***

December 28th; Luna  
“Goodnight.”

I can’t convince  
Her to go up to bed  
Before it gets too late for  
Me to stay

So I kiss her forehead  
And promise  
“Things will look better  
At breakfast”  
That she better get some sleep  
So she can be just this beautiful  
In the morning

***

December 29th; Harry  
Experienced

Long after he slides out  
of my bed and stumbles  
into his own,  
long after his breathing falls  
into steady rhythms,  
I lay awake,  
infatuated

(obsessed)

with what his hands  
his mouth, his skin  
did to my body and how  
he knew  
to cover my mouth with his damp palm  
to stifle sound.

***

December 29th; Ginny  
Affirmation

It’s almost dawn when  
Harry creeps back  
into the common room where  
I am awake  
Still  
The fire has burned down and the room  
is dim  
but he sees  
me curled alone on the sofa  
He says my name and  
his eyes go soft  
The tears I kept from Luna  
revisit  
 _I thought you were  
okay with this_  
I swallow the lump  
in my throat and look at  
Tousled Hair  
Unbuttoned Pajamas  
Swollen Lips  
 _Don’t you still love Luna?_  
my voice sounds desperate and I hate it  
and he closes his eyes--moved?  
 _Of course_  
he whispers _Always_  
I don’t understand how  
it can be both  
 _But there’s a place  
for Neville just like  
there’s always room for you  
in him_  
He means it  
Luna said the same thing  
but  
I almost believe Harry  
Almost

***

December 29th; Neville  
unsure

waking up  
shrouded in harry’s scent  
makes me shiver  
with new emotions  
and old exhilaration

and i see him  
dressed  
and damp from his shower  
already

washing away the evidence?

“harry,” i whisper  
suddenly terrified.  
he crosses the room without  
smiling

but kisses me  
“i’m not going to stop  
seeing luna,”  
he warns, his forehead pressed  
against mine

i grin  
“and i have every intention  
of marrying ginny one day.”

as long as that’s clear  
we can stay

like this.

***

December 29th; Harry  
Morning After

Luna is waiting on the  
corridor floor,  
her knees pulled up beneath  
her chin  
“How was it?” she asks,  
springing to her feet as soon  
as the Fat Lady lets me pass.  
One quick memory of  
Neville’s mouth  
is enough to make me try  
to put her off with  
a mumble about  
her not really wanting to know

She stops walking.

I look back  
She stands with her head cocked,  
her wand tucked behind one ear,  
smiling faintly.  
“I hope it was good.”  
(without even blushing!)

I flush

and she laughs, a peal  
that resonates in the empty corridor  
and in another moment  
she’s flung her arms around  
my neck, nuzzling.  
“Oh, I knew it would be,”  
she sighs.

My heart leaps  
when our lips meet.  
As I hold her hair,  
I kiss her  
wondering how this girl  
can exist  
outside of dreams.

***

December 29th; Ginny  
Better

Luna promised  
that things  
would look better  
at breakfast  
But from the doorway  
I see Harry and Luna  
sitting close  
laughing  
while Harry’s foot  
reaches out  
to touch  
Neville  
And suddenly breakfast  
looks a bit  
stupid.

***

December 29th; Neville  
she dodges

i find ginny  
finally  
in the owlery  
leaning near a wide  
gaping window,  
her hands yanked  
far into the sleeves  
of her golden jumper

“why are you avoiding me?”

she smiles,  
laughs almost,  
but won’t look me  
in the eyes.  
“why would i do that?”

 _you tell me,_  
i want to counter  
but i already used this holiday’s  
allotted nerve  
so i smile, too.  
“i guess you wouldn’t.”

but i’m ashamed of my cowardice--  
because  
i can’t ask her to stop  
when she runs away.

***

December 29th; Ginny  
Escape

Even as I’m running breathless  
down the spiral  
of stone steps  
I can’t believe I’m running  
Away from Neville  
my sweet unassuming  
Neville  
I promised my support  
even though  
even though he spent the night  
with someone else--  
with a boy--  
with _Harry_  
And I don’t stop until I reach  
the gilt-framed mirror  
that guards  
the Ravenclaw entrance  
I touch the glass but realize  
I don’t know  
the magical words  
so I slide to the floor and  
curl up to wait  
Until Luna comes back from  
wherever she is--  
with Harry.

***

December 29th; Luna  
His shoulder bumps

Against mine as we  
Scour  
The library shelves for

Crucial tomes  
Exploring the link  
Between King Arthur and  
The Loch Ness Monster

And though he rolls his eyes  
I know  
He’s happy to be here  
Because

Every few moments. . .  
BUMP  
His arm/hand/hip/shoulder  
Slides against mine  
And he smiles  
That shy, little  
Pretending-it’s-an-accident  
Smile.

Never noticing  
How we slowly inch  
Back toward the dusty  
No man’s land  
Of the philosophy section

The farthest reaches  
Of the library  
Where countless young wizards  
Have carved rough initials  
To mark their  
Conquests.

And when he bumps  
Hip to hip with that little  
Smirk,  
I press him  
Against the shelf  
And kiss.

And his hands  
And my hands  
And both our pelvises  
Somehow become  
Involved  
Until we dislodge a few  
Aged books

And Plato’s yellowed pages  
Flutter around  
The non-platonic us

“Who is back there?”  
Madame Pince’s voice  
Is echoed by hurried footfalls  
So we  
Run.

***

December 29th; Harry  
The Room of Requirement

“I want . . .  
I need to be alone with you.”  
My voice is breathless  
from running.

We round a corner,  
discovering  
The door.

***

December 29th; Neville  
hollow

even the feeling  
of earth around my fingers  
the scent of living  
green things  
doesn’t

soothe  
the ache of watching  
her disappear  
after seeing the  
panic  
in her eyes.  
and i wonder

is this the fair  
payment  
for feeling

such happiness  
with harry?  
or is it simply

punishment?

***

December 29th; Harry  
Nargles Revisited

The first thing I notice is the  
Mistletoe  
that hangs over our heads  
Suspended  
by a gold cord

“Probably full of nargles,”  
I remember  
out loud, realizing  
that mistletoe has, for a  
very long time  
reminded me of  
Luna,  
Not Cho Chang.

She steps close, her cheeks  
and nose pink  
“I only said that because  
you obviously  
didn’t want to kiss me.”

and suddenly I can’t remember a time  
when I didn’t want  
at least that much  
from her  
“And now?”

I want her to know how much  
I want her.

Her hands grasp  
the back of my head, my hair  
twists in her fists as she  
pulls  
Our lips almost touch--  
“Fuck the nargles,” she whispers

(but I hope not only the nargles)

***

December 29th; Luna  
Beyond the mistletoe

Lay a luxurious bedroom  
With a canopy bed  
Soft music,  
Even a snowy view of the grounds--  
All of the props for a  
proper seduction.

We stumble to the bed  
Our hands already yanking away  
Various bits of impertinent cloth--  
Searching for skin.  
The air is cool  
The satin coverlet is cold  
Even the cheery fire  
Doesn’t brighten this twilit room

But Harry’s breath is hot,  
His green eyes light with  
Fevered radiance  
As he braces his arms on  
Either side of my head

And I wonder out loud  
If he’s thinking of Neville.  
“Now I am.”  
He reddens--

A hot flush against my skin  
As his body stills  
So I lean up to whisper,  
My lips tingling with the feel of his ear  
“So am I.”

Harry’s eyes go incredulous.  
For an instant  
I panic, but his smile  
Stills my heart

“So you like that?”

I nod.

His hair falls over his eyes  
And his body falls to press into mine  
His brows pulling together  
In concentration and I  
Fall in love again

And again  
Marveling

If it feels this good,  
How did he ever manage  
To untangle himself from his lover

To come to me?

***

December 29th; Harry  
Pillow Talk

Are there words  
to explain this feeling?  
This rush of tender  
astonishment  
mingled with sweet,  
painful longing

For what? For what we just did?  
For some abstract future  
with Luna?

“I’m in love with how much you love me,  
Harry James Potter,”  
she breathes  
(Giving power to four little letters  
stuck together as the whole world)

And though I’d never said it,  
barely thought it,  
(scarcely dared _wish_ it)  
her words are truth.

“Then you’ll be in love with me forever.”  
Because I have no intention  
of stopping.

***

December 29th; Ginny  
Afterglow

She holds his hand  
as she walks down the corridor  
her shoulder  
pressed against  
his arm--intimately  
her hair no longer  
braided  
And her cheeks  
maybe pinker than usual  
And Harry  
shines  
My stomach turns  
remembering the softness  
of his face as he kissed  
Neville  
wondering how  
How?  
How  
he could possibly make love  
to Luna after  
That.  
Before they notice me  
I leave

***

December 29th; Luna  
“I wonder,”

Harry asks, not looking at me  
“Why did you encourage  
Me to talk to Neville?”  
And his eyes look  
Really confused  
As though he doesn’t  
Understand how

Love gives  
Without asking for  
More than to be loved

“I could tell.”

His eyes are troubled,  
Somehow darker  
“You could tell that I--  
That I wanted him?”

Laughter bubbles from me  
Relief  
His innocence is relieving  
“Of course not,” I tell him.  
“I could tell you loved me  
And I knew you’d be back.”

His brow creases,  
But how did I know  
For certain?  
And I suddenly get the feeling  
That he’s worried--

“Because I’ll come back to you.  
Even though I . . .  
Love . . .”

His smile is soft,  
His hands warm against mine.  
“Ginny?”

He says her name

And my heart flutters  
In a natural panic.  
Harry leans close  
With the soft smugness  
Of my secret  
On his lips.

“How long?”  
I wonder, needing to know  
If it’s been obvious from  
The beginning

He leans me back  
Against the wall  
“Only just now,” he promises  
“It’s okay, you know.”

Of course it is--  
Love is always  
Good  
But does Harry think--  
And he’s still smiling  
Like he’s drunk too much butterbeer

“Go for it,” he whispers.

***

December 31st; Harry  
Skipping Breakfast Again

This time I see her  
She pokes her head through the doorway  
and (for the third time) decides  
not to come in and eat  
breakfast with us

I notice the sharp  
pain in Neville’s eyes,  
blue that never looked so  
Blue

And it’s been three days  
since any of us has seen her  
(more than a flash of her hair  
as she runs off)  
So I wonder if I  
(or maybe just Luna)  
should try  
to talk to  
Ginny.

***

December 31st; Harry  
Discussion in the Dormitory

“She hasn’t said a word to me,”  
he says in a low voice  
even though we’re very much  
Alone.

In three short (dizzying) days  
he’s become my  
confidante and (sort of substitute)  
best friend,  
so we sit  
(with well kissed mouths  
and unbuttoned jeans)

alone and talk--  
About girls.

“Luna’s in love with her,”  
I blurt out,  
Already aware that this  
won’t help.  
Neville’s eyes go  
Wide.  
“I don’t mind,” I rush  
to add.

“...if you don’t.”

And though he’s clearly  
shaken,  
he shakes his head.

“Ginny needs as much love  
as she can get.”  
But his eyes mist over

so I hold on.

***

December 31st; Luna  
I find her

Finally,  
Out in the icy air  
And swirling snowflakes  
Near Hagrid’s hut  
And though I’m barely dressed  
For snow  
I wrap my thick cardigan  
Tight  
Around my middle and trudge

Through knee-deep snow,  
Risking snow pixie contamination,  
To the brambles of a  
Used-to-be pumpkin patch  
Where she shivers  
Hatless  
Gloveless

Neville-less.

“His feelings for you haven’t changed,”  
I say before she  
Looks up.

Her eyes flash  
But she can’t hide the  
Redness  
“Maybe mine have.”  
I consider  
For a long time  
What that might mean

To me.  
But the wind drives cruelly  
So I push  
“Talk to him.”  
But she trembles and whispers  
Something about  
Harry  
“He loves Harry,” she repeats  
And I wonder

If I dare show her  
How loved  
She really is.

***

December 31st; Ginny  
Caught

 _I never meant to run away_  
I confess, still not knowing  
just how to take back  
three days of frantic  
hiding or even  
Whether or not I  
really want to  
 _But it hurt me so much  
I never expected it to hurt_  
And Luna  
reaches out to brush snow  
from my hair  
 _Because you love him_  
she reminds me  
And I don’t want to be  
apart from him  
but I can’t seem to manage  
being near

***

December 31st; Luna  
I can’t believe

That I can be so awful  
As to yearn for her  
While I’m  
Speaking for her boyfriend,  
And I wonder  
Where my own priorities  
Lie and why  
I’ve turned out to be such a  
Terrible friend to  
Both of them.

***

December 31st; Ginny  
Sweet

She’s standing here  
shivering and  
Her ears get red  
so I wrap the long  
tails of my scarf  
up and around until they block  
the snowy wind  
And I mean  
to step back but  
she grasps my wrist  
Bare fingers cold through the sleeve of  
my hand-me-down coat  
and holds  
Her eyes are long-lashed  
and far-away  
but she leans close  
brushing the sad look from  
my face with her  
frosty lips  
I blink  
forgetting to pull  
away  
preoccupied with my sudden loss  
of breath  
 _Hmmm_ she murmurs  
opening my curled fingers  
and plucking the red  
candy cellophane from my  
mittened palm  
 _As I expected_  
Her eyes flash with  
false bravado  
 _Sweet_

***

December 31st; Harry  
Warming up After the Snow

Luna shivers, pulling  
her freezing-cold sweater  
more tightly around her  
shaking shoulders  
so I yank  
my sweatshirt over my head  
and slide it  
over hers (hood up).

“Why didn’t you wear a cloak?”  
I scold, even while I’d rather  
Ask about Ginny.

Her teeth chatter and I  
don’t expect  
an answer.  
“I kissed her,” she  
whispers, her eyes  
on the floor

My heart drops out of my chest  
like a jealous creature  
ate it  
But the feeling passes  
(much sooner than I anticipated)  
into wondering curiosity

“And?”

She shrugs, stepping down  
the corridor toward  
the Great Hall.  
“And then,” she whispers,  
her voice almost lost against  
the high stone walls  
“and then we pretended  
that nothing happened.”

***

January 1st; Ginny  
Mulling Thoughts

I don’t know what time it is  
but I can hear them  
celebrating in the common room  
So it must be  
after midnight  
New year  
New start?  
I think of the way he  
always made me smile  
and how I never thought  
there’d ever be anyone  
but Neville  
But now I have  
a kiss  
light and tender and unprotested,  
even as we walked back  
together  
She’s sweet  
brilliant, warm  
wonderful  
and the best friend I expect  
I’ll ever have  
and yet when I close  
my eyes I wonder  
if maybe  
Maybe I wanted  
to kiss  
back?

***

January 1st; Neville  
happy new year

they ring in another  
mad new year,  
with kisses and party hats  
and long drinks of  
questionable concoctions

but i stare at the staircase  
wondering if she’ll show herself  
possibly coaxed down  
by the obnoxious festivities

wasn’t i supposed to  
kiss in the year  
\--this year and every one after--  
with her?

i want to die;  
she’s hiding  
because of hurts i inflicted  
and days have passed  
without so much as a glimpse  
of the girl i love

harry and luna,  
just as sober  
even as they kiss  
for an auspicious year,  
come to me

and harry’s hand in my hair  
makes me feel less alone

but even more reprehensible.

***

January 1st; Luna  
An impulse

A twitch  
A stupid move  
A stupid motive  
Why do I always complicate  
What should be  
Simple?  
She needed to be comforted,  
Not accosted.

This wasn’t supposed to be  
About me.  
But I always seem  
To turn things around and  
Make everyone  
Stare.  
This is no different.

That sugar-brushed touch  
Of two pairs of lips  
Charged the moment,  
Changed the day,

Changed the world.

Giving her yet another reason  
To run away.  
But will I have the courage

To chase her?

***

January 2nd; Harry  
In the Infirmary

After searching all morning  
a tip from  
Sir Nicholas sends me  
to the infirmary  
where Ginny is  
(supposedly)  
helping Madame Pomfrey mix  
potions.

But when I arrive she is alone  
asleep  
on one of the pristine beds.  
I watch her breathe,  
startled by the intensity  
of my affection

for her,  
Feeling awful for being  
so much at fault in  
her misery.

“Ginny,” I whisper,  
trying not to wake her  
even as I touch a strand of her  
shining hair

“Be easy on Luna,”  
I want to talk about Neville  
And the complicated way  
we’ve entangled  
Everyone  
(but this is about Luna)  
“She loves you so much.”

And I lean down to brush  
a kiss to  
her forehead  
(something I’d never done)  
and I’m shocked  
by the

jolt of feeling.

***

January 2nd; Ginny  
Jolted

I open my eyes to watch  
Harry walk away  
amazed at the way  
my heart  
pounds  
Wondering how he can  
encourage me to  
Love  
the girl he’s so obviously  
mad for  
And then kiss  
me sweetly as though  
he holds no  
grudge

***

January 2nd; Ginny  
Embracing Complication

Sometimes love is almost  
too complicated to make  
me want to bother  
Because why care  
at all when  
your lover becomes  
enamored with another  
leaving you  
alone  
and confused  
and kissing  
your best friend  
When all you ever  
wanted  
was him  
But then that kiss  
that secret quick  
almost clandestine touch  
stirs you into an emotional  
Ecstasy  
Until all you think about  
is her  
Because it’s easier to love  
Luna than to  
forgive Neville

***

January 3rd; Luna  
Ginny slides into the seat

Directly across  
From mine in the library  
But before I can get my  
Hopes up  
She opens a book  
Like a barrier dividing us

And then  
She looks at me

Over the top of her book and  
With eyes bright with mischief  
She beckons me close,  
To lean across the table  
For a conspiratorial  
Whisper.

And I wonder how  
Awkwardness can just  
Vanish  
In a shared gaze and  
A shy smile.

“I’m so sorry,” I exhale  
In a hurry to fix  
Everything  
That’s been so wrong  
“I don’t know what I was thinking.”  
But she reaches  
Across my book and wraps  
Warm fingers around my hands

“Don’t apologize,”  
She whispers, her voice thick  
With some shaking  
Emotion.  
And my spirits

Rise.  
“You don’t hate me?”

She smiles,  
Slow, and silly, and a touch  
Self-conscious.  
She shakes her head.  
“You’re my best friend,”  
Ginny reminds me,  
Squeezing

“I forgot how much  
I need you.”

Her words--barely spoken  
But mouthed  
In the heavy stillness of the library  
Make my heart  
Race  
Surely she couldn’t mean it  
The way I  
Would mean it.

She must see in my eyes  
The question  
I’m too afraid to voice  
Because her gaze  
Softens.  
Her voice  
Quavers

“For real.”

***

January 3rd; Ginny  
Making the Jump

 _Let me sleep over_  
I barely understand  
my own feelings  
Clustered together in a tight  
knot of torment  
and joy  
but I know that I want  
to explore this reckless  
Feeling  
to find out firsthand  
the limitless potential  
of this emotion  
So maybe I can  
understand Neville  
and Harry  
 _I want to be with you_  
She stares like she doesn’t  
comprehend but  
her lip trembles  
and a tumultuous smile  
emerges  
 _What about Neville?_  
she asks  
her expression wavering  
And though I realize that  
it’s an attempt at escape  
I don’t want  
to think about  
Him  
 _This is about you_

***

January 3rd; Harry  
The Corridor

She slips her arm into  
mine as I hurry  
down a corridor  
(headed to the owlery  
to send a note to Ron)  
Her hand is freezing through  
my thick jumper

and her words  
stop me cold

I hardly know my own  
feelings when I  
think of them,  
both beautiful and  
loved  
Together

“Does it bother you?”  
she asks me  
in a low voice  
that’s saturated with  
expression  
And I can’t say  
anything

(because I’m afraid of  
assuaging my guilt  
in this way)  
But I shake my head.  
“Does Neville know?”  
Luna bites her lip

“I guess we can’t  
expect Ginny  
to tell him,” she murmurs.  
I’m about to offer to  
break the news  
but she takes a deep breath,  
“I’ll tell him.”  
And I kiss her

just because she’s  
wonderful.

***

January 4th; Neville  
luna and ginny are having a sleepover

“do you mind?” luna asks  
as though asking to borrow  
a book or a quill.  
“i think it might pull her out of  
this dark mood of hers.”

and even though she won’t  
say explicitly what  
is planned for the night,  
i can’t see it being much

different

from what i already  
imagine.  
“you don’t need my permission,”  
i remind her, since apparently  
ginny and i are no longer.  
luna smiles softly,

pressing a cool hand  
to my cheek  
“but we’d like your blessing,”  
she whispers,  
and i wonder

how to give a blessing,  
a promise, a vow  
that will not be revoked  
as soon as jealousy rears  
its ugly head

and suddenly i realize

that luna’s “we” might not stand  
only for herself,  
that ginny might also  
crave my permission.  
so . . .

“just see that she’s happy.”

***

January 4th; Luna  
When Ginny sleeps over

She slides in beside me  
Her narrow body  
Trembling  
Beneath striped pajamas  
Her shy eyes stripped  
Of guile and guilt  
“Luna,”  
She whispers,  
Her freckles  
Blushing

I kiss her,  
My own body unsteady  
My emotions spinning  
“I love you,”

I tell her.  
For years but  
“I thought you’d never  
See me.”

And her eyes soften  
Her fingers touch my face,  
My lips,  
Then drop to the top  
Button  
Of my nightshirt  
“I see you now,”  
She promises.

***

January 4th; Harry  
A Quarter Past Midnight

It's a strange feeling  
to be awake  
in the middle of the night  
because  
my girlfriend is sleeping

with her girlfriend,  
even as I lay  
within touching distance  
of Neville  
(without even touching.)

“What do you suppose they're . . . ?”  
Neville begins, his voice  
clear and strong,  
not doubting that I'm still  
awake  
(Soft skin against smooth curves  
long hair entwined, gold and copper  
girls' mouths open,  
eyes shut,  
tiny moans)  
“I have no idea.” Quickly.

A silence stretches as we  
both imagine  
every last detail  
and every long moment  
“Do you suppose we ought to--?”

I’ve already thought of it:  
Release.  
I close my eyes, tempted,  
but see only Luna's pale skin.  
“Nah.”

Neville sighs, his vines fluttering  
“I suppose not.  
Wouldn't do a bit of good,  
really.”  
I shift on my mattress,  
my body tight and awake

“Not a bit,” I agree.

***

January 4th; Ginny  
Namesake

My fingers  
shake  
as they run over smooth  
skin  
Pale and soft  
where light  
rarely touches  
And I wonder if anyone  
has ever taken the time  
to notice  
the beauty in the curve  
of Luna’s breast  
or the gentle flare  
of her hips  
as they taper into a narrow waist  
And I discover  
the faintest mark--  
a tiny crescent of moon  
on the inside  
of one smooth thigh  
I kiss the birthmark  
and she gasps  
 _You just  
Discovered my name_  
My tongue traces  
the barely pink curve  
 _Now I’ve tasted your name_  
I answer.  
Luna shudders  
making the candles  
flicker

***

January 4th; Luna  
As I kiss her

Her gasps accelerate  
Into whimpers,  
Then into a moan

So I slide my  
Wand into her hand  
“Bite down on this.”

And she is  
Quiet.

***

January 6th; Harry  
After the Owls

I’m sorting through  
the various junk mail  
correspondence (looking for  
a response from Ron)  
When Neville jumps  
from his seat,

rushing from the  
Great Hall without  
a glance back  
And a paper flutters  
onto the floor  
A note.

It’s from Ginny.

A confession;  
all the details we  
already knew  
About her newfound  
Regard  
for Luna

I hope he finds her,  
sorts this out so  
we can have some  
sort of happiness

between the four of us.

***

January 6th; Neville  
chasing ginny

she sees me just after  
i notice her

she runs.

i drop my bundle—  
my books, my plants,  
my wand—  
and give chase.

“ginny!”  
yet she darts into darker corridors  
areas unfamiliar  
even after seven years  
and would have vanished

down a forked passage  
were it not for her footsteps  
scuffing against  
old stone

a stitch forms  
painful in my side, beneath  
screaming lungs  
but she’s within sound.  
within sight.  
within reach.

i grab her arm  
forcing the both of us  
to a grinding halt  
in the shadow  
of a gargoyled pillar.

“let me go.”  
she tries to wrench away  
but somehow i’m stronger  
and I yank  
her against me, wrapping my arms  
around her shaking shoulders.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”  
i could whisper the words forever  
if it would make her  
understand.  
she stills

and i let go  
trying to think of a way  
to explain.

***

January 6th; Ginny  
Shattering

 _If I had to choose_  
Neville pants  
Out of breath from the chase  
 _I would choose you, Ginny_  
Something cracks inside of me  
 _In a heartbeat_  
Breaks  
And he doesn’t say the rest  
That he doesn’t want  
to choose  
That he loves him  
And he’ll suffer  
a long time  
if forced to leave him  
And shouldn’t I care  
about that if I  
love him at all?  
Which I do  
Oh god  
I do.  
But now I have  
Luna  
confusing everything inside  
because how could I touch her  
and kiss her  
and love her  
without turning away  
from Neville?

***

January 6th; Neville  
rejection

her eyes fill with tears,  
and her breath  
explodes from her lips  
in a ragged sigh

“i love you,” she mouths,  
her voice lost  
 _but--_  
i wait for the rest:  
the accusation,  
the hurt,  
the imminent rejection.

but  
she only turns  
and runs away

again.

***

January 6th; Harry  
At Dusk

At dusk she finds me,  
polishing my broom in McGonagall’s  
empty classroom  
The sun slants orange,  
turning her hair to fire.

“Do you hate me?” she asks  
her voice shaking,  
“Am I in your way?”

I’m afraid to look up  
So I focus on the smooth wood grain  
(afraid to see revulsion in her eyes)

I shake my head.  
“I could never hate you,” I tell her  
embarrassed by the catch  
in my voice.

“You won’t look at me,” unsteadily.

I’m ashamed  
(we’re all ashamed)  
of hurting her so deeply  
I want to tell her  
how sorry I am  
that any of our happiness  
caused her pain  
But I can’t find words

”Neville loves you,” I whisper  
instead. “More than I can say.”  
Finally I find the nerve  
to look at her

Her cheeks are pale  
and her eyes are rimmed with red

I want to touch her,  
to smooth her windblown hair  
and coax out a smile.  
“We all do.”  
(barely a whisper)

Her breath catches and  
tears spill  
over ashen cheeks.

“Talk to him; please.”

***

January 6th; Ginny  
Making it Right

He’s alone  
staring into faded  
embers  
long after the common room  
is empty I creep  
close draping  
a woolen cover  
around his shaking shoulders  
 _Ginny?_ he asks  
incredulous  
as I slide into the chair  
next to him  
 _I understand now_  
My voice doesn’t  
waver and I look him  
straight in the eyes  
 _I can’t do any of this_  
motioning blindly at the room  
the school  
my whole life  
 _without you_  
And it all spills out  
about Luna and love  
and my confusion over his  
feelings for Harry  
and how I finally see  
that love can’t be  
quelled  
by the weakness of one’s  
will

***

January 7th; Neville  
confessions

into the wee hours  
of morning we  
explain everything,  
sharing  
the depths of feeling  
never trusted with anyone  
before.

and we learn to understand  
how to trust  
each other with more  
than what we think we  
ought to feel

i wonder if harry notices  
that i’m not in my bed  
and if he wonders  
or if he knows  
\--seems like he always knows—

exactly what’s happening here

unable to pull  
ourselves away,  
we fall asleep,  
ginny’s head tucked tenderly  
upon my shoulder  
my arms around  
her narrow body and  
her soft brassy hair  
wafting sweet fruity scents  
into the air around us

i dream  
for the first time  
in weeks.

***

January 7th; Harry  
Breakfast Together

I can almost  
feel Luna’s sigh  
of relief  
When they walk in  
together (hand-in-hand).  
Neville smiles his  
shyest,

Brushing my shoulder  
with the back  
of his fingers as he  
sits down.  
I realize that his  
new start isn’t  
our end.

And the pink tinge  
on Ginny’s cheeks

when she meets Luna’s  
eager gaze  
Shows that there will be  
no quarrels over  
who does what

With whom.

***

January 7th; Neville  
cornered

“when we met, i thought you were cute,”  
she says  
smiling across a row of  
potted mandrakes.

her hair is twisted  
into two braided knots  
and her garden gloves  
are embroidered with  
unicorns  
i watch her and try  
to remember what i thought  
when I first met  
luna lovegood.

“i think i was afraid of you,”  
i finally say  
and she has that way of looking  
right through you  
as though you were  
inconsequential, but

then she smiles,  
and chews her lip  
“but i still think you’re cute,”  
she says  
“and now you’re sleeping  
with harry.”

i don’t know whether to  
apologize or  
feel indignant,  
since she is, after all,  
on kissing terms with my  
girlfriend

but her gaze is direct  
so I stumble  
and stutter

until she pulls out her wand  
and gnaws the tip.  
grins,  
“maybe i want to sleep with you, too.”

and yes, I’m still  
afraid.

***

January 7th; Harry  
Near Hagrid’s Hut

I meet Ginny on the slope  
of the hill  
as I come back from visiting  
Buckbeak and Hagrid  
And I’m glad to see

she’s smiling.

Even the sunlight reflected  
off the snow can’t match  
her radiance.  
I tell her I’m happy  
(thrilled, ecstatic, overjoyed)  
that she and Neville  
were able to finally talk.  
“I hope you still want  
to be friends with me,” I joke  
(but somehow half-serious)

She touches my jaw  
and her smile  
dims  
into something more serious,  
Less gleeful  
“Even when I hated everything,”  
she murmurs,  
her voice thick  
“I never hated you.”  
And without knowing quite how

We’re kissing.

And I don’t even think  
of Luna or Neville.

***

January 7th; Luna  
The strange sensation

Of witnessing  
A moment so unrehearsed,  
So private  
Between two so dear.  
I suffer the wavering conflict  
Of one  
both shocked and

Relieved.

This strange turn,  
This surprising display  
Of startling affection  
Might make short work  
Of the plan  
I’ve barely allowed myself  
To plan.

But because I’m just  
A human girl, I wonder  
If he finds her lips more  
Delicious.  
Or if she prefers the strong  
Hold of his arms  
Over mine.

And the snow starts to fall  
Faster  
As Harry tangles  
His hands in her hair.  
I marvel at the  
Spontaneity of their tandem  
Move toward  
Each other and wonder  
If anything I’ve ever done  
Was quite  
So very mutual.

Or natural.

***

January 7th; Ginny  
Reflecting On a Kiss

Wasn’t it just this morning  
that I woke in Neville’s arms  
and wasn’t it just three  
days ago  
I did the same with Luna?  
And still I’m  
soothing snow-chapped lips  
with the press of  
a new kiss  
Harry’s lips  
so perfect  
and somehow I  
thought I knew  
Everything  
about love

***

January 8th; Luna  
Tally:

Ginny and Neville--of course  
Neville and Harry--yes  
Harry and me--indeed

Then me and Ginny--at last

And now that Harry  
Kissed her . . .

I glance at Neville  
Remembering the delicious shiver of  
Hunger  
His fingers coaxed  
From my belly.  
I need to  
Hook up Harry and Ginny. . .

And Neville and me.

***

January 8th; Neville  
a lesson in mathmatics

lately luna has been  
hovering  
in the corner of my vision  
like some pale-haired  
phantom

planning something devious,  
or at least outrageous  
keeping tabs on  
my movements and occupations

“neville,”  
her voice is beseeching,  
sweet.  
i pause, just inside the greenhouse doors  
“have you thought at all  
about what i asked for?”

at first i’m  
confused  
but, remembering yesterday’s teasing  
i blush.  
i stammer.  
i shake my head.  
“but why . . . ?”

even my question fades  
beneath hearty  
embarrassment.

she touches my face with  
warm fingers and  
steps close--  
i can almost taste the mint  
of her breath

“simple geometry,” she whispers.  
“let’s turn triangles  
into a square.”  
only loony lovegood  
could make maths sound  
so very sexy.

i try to look her in the eyes  
but she’s looking at  
my mouth  
and i can’t believe i’m  
this close to pushing her onto  
the nearest table like

some kind of wild beast.  
“it’s too complicated,” i protest  
weakly.  
luna shakes her head

“it’s all about finding  
the proper formula,” she says  
with a low laugh.  
her lips  
touch my ear:  
“i’ll draw you a diagram.”  
and she vanishes  
into the frosty afternoon, leaving  
my head spinning.

***

January 8th; Harry  
Alone in Bed

Alone in bed  
(with Neville)  
I can barely concentrate  
(especially while he does  
that thing he does  
. . . with his mouth)  
Barely concentrate  
on working up  
the nerve to explain

how a strange mingling  
of snow and  
some crazy kind of  
half-platonic love  
can create

Kisses.

and I’m about to blurt  
out the guilty confession  
but he pulls away,  
his face  
looking a touch queasy.  
“I’m sorry, Harry,”  
he says and repeats  
“I didn’t really even

touch her, but--”

And it all tumbles out:  
About Luna seducing him,  
(murmurings on maths and mingling)  
And about the unrestrained madness  
passing between me  
and Ginny.

Then for an instant  
I’m nervous  
But he laughs and I laugh  
and we tumble back  
into the warm bedclothes,  
wondering at the strange  
scheming minds of girls.

***

January 9th; Ginny  
Girl talk

When Luna tells me  
her idea  
how to seal the cracks  
and the crevices  
that might settle  
in the distances between the players  
of our half-crazed love exhibition  
I’m intrigued  
and I think on how  
Beautiful  
the world seems when I’m kissing Neville  
and how  
Passionate  
kissing Luna makes me feel  
and finally how very  
Logical  
it was to finally kiss Harry  
It all makes me imagine  
how very sparkly  
love could be  
between my lovely Luna  
and Neville

***

January 9th; Ginny  
Changing Things

 _We all need to talk_  
Luna and I find the boys  
looking mischievous and well-kissed  
in the deepest shadows  
of the planetarium  
 _I think  
and Luna thinks  
that we should  
expand  
this relationship_  
Neville looks wary and Harry  
looks at me like an owl  
studying a browsing shrew  
 _Squares are stronger than triangles_  
Luna chimes in  
raising her eyebrows at  
an even more alarmed Neville

***

January 9th; Neville  
protests

it’s bad enough  
to be discovered like this,  
disheveled and horny  
and only half into everything

and then harry  
starts staring at Ginny like  
he wants to devour her,  
but what they’re  
suggesting is bound to fail  
at the expense  
of everyone.

and my heart  
won’t survive such a fall,  
especially if i let luna lovegood  
lure me into  
whatever it is she’s luring me into  
on top of  
everything else  
“this is insane,” i sputter

and every last objection  
tumbles out of me,  
until i’m almost yelling,  
frightened because i know  
i’m the only  
opposition  
ginny’s eyes flash and  
i flinch  
she’s about to explode

but luna steps close,  
grabs my shoulders,  
and kisses me into submissive silence.

***

January 9th; Harry  
The Decision

After Luna so eloquently  
convinces Neville  
that geometry is a good thing,  
We decide  
to try it all out

Together.

***

January 10th; Ginny  
Awkwardness

We agreed  
to meet early  
in the boys’ dormitory  
an hour after sunrise  
So we don’t have all day  
to think and obsess  
and talk ourselves out of  
something wonderful  
And it’s astounding  
how strange the familiar room  
seems  
when I know I’ll be  
in the bed across the room  
With Harry  
Luna grasps my hand  
pulling me close  
for a quick kiss  
and Neville looks  
longingly even as he  
reaches for her hand  
 _Hi Harry_ I whisper  
Suddenly shy  
as he leans close  
to nuzzle me  
hello

***

January 10th; Luna  
When I’m with Neville

His lips taste a brilliant red,  
And his voice is warm sunlight.  
He brushes his fingertips  
Over my skin like lemon-zest and vanilla  
And I’m dying to  
Attack him with soft,  
Scarring whispers.

“Breathe, Luna,” he whispers  
The sound loud as snow

I do.  
And the spinning world  
Stills.

***

January 10th; Harry  
Cinnamon

I never expected  
to twine my fingers through  
red hair.  
I find it  
Delicious.  
And when she leans up  
kissing me  
I find that  
Cinnamon  
is my favorite flavor

Through lowered lashes  
I see Luna  
twisted into Neville  
her breath coming hard  
Ecstatic.

Ginny’s hands paw  
against flesh  
and I curl,  
dizzy,  
around her  
Closing my eyes  
and falling into the sweetness  
of her  
Cinnamon.

***

January 10th; Luna  
When it Happens

He bites his lip and  
Closes his eyes,  
His breath stopping  
Violently, then  
Shuddergaspsigh  
Collapse  
And I feel him

Everywhere  
At once.

***

January 10th; Neville  
glee

“are you still afraid of me?”  
she’s still beside me  
naked,  
her long hair tangled  
around the wand still  
tucked behind her ear

before I answer, i take the wand  
“teeth marks?”  
luna rolls her eyes.

“you know how loud ginny  
can be.”  
and we both laugh

then i realize that  
i haven’t stopped smiling  
since yesterday  
when she shut me up  
with her kiss,  
that ginny is my heart  
and harry my soul  
but luna . . .

luna is my  
glee.

“i was never afraid of you,”  
i lie.

and she laughs harder.

***

January 10th; Ginny  
New Crush

He looks at me  
wonderingly and I  
remember my childhood  
crush on him  
how his very presence  
was enough to  
Still my heart  
I was too young to imagine  
that one day it would be  
Like this  
dazzling and moving  
and achingly sweet  
Made sweeter by the magic  
of Neville and Luna  
both so loved and so close  
wrapped up so thoroughly in each other  
 _I think you’re fantastic_  
Harry murmurs smoothing  
tangles from my  
bed-tousled hair  
 _And I think I have  
a bit of a crush on you_

***

January 10th; Harry  
In the Dormitory

Wrapped in blankets  
(but naked underneath)  
we’re as comfortable as ever,  
Finally free of the muddling  
complications of repressed,  
unexpressed, restrained emotions

It’s amazing to see  
three beautiful faces  
of three incredible friends  
All of us belonging  
somehow  
to each other  
And I finally realize that  
intimacy isn’t the skin  
(or the sex or the secret looks)

It’s the way we are,  
(the way we’ve always been)  
and the miracle  
of being able to express

such perfect love.

***

January 12th; Harry  
And Life Goes On?

Ron flings his bags  
onto his bed,  
stretching and fussing over  
how good it is  
to be home and  
how much he missed his best mate  
(never mind that he didn’t send  
even a single letter)

And I realize just how  
much has changed,  
trying not to blush as I  
catch Neville’s eye.

“Harry,” Ron says, his voice  
troubled as he  
pulls me aside.  
“Heard a weird rumour  
as soon as I got back.”

Then he promptly tells a story  
of a first year who  
Solemnly swears  
he saw me kissing  
Ginny.  
I swallow hard and look  
at Neville  
who chokes, coughs,

and looks generally guilty.  
But I manage  
to shake my head  
“Obviously the kid is nutters.”

Ron smiles  
“Obviously,” he agrees.  
“Same kid says  
he saw you kissing Neville, too.”

What a long year  
this is going to be.


End file.
